None The Wiser
by Calliope's Silence
Summary: Sage is aware that she isn't invincible and leads a sheltered life because of it. Embry sets out to bring her out of her world, and is taking 'in sickness and in health' to heart. But dealing with more than the average teenager may take its mortal toll.
1. Hazy Green

**Disclaimer: I am NOT Stephenie Meyer. Otherwise it would have been me that had a cameo on Twilight.**

**Summary: The girl Embry Call imprinted on wasn't ready for him, or for La Push, the only reservation overrun with werewolves. Sage isn't ready for the supernatural, she isn't ready for Embry and she isn't ready for whatever may lurk in dark corners, but can she evade all that's coming?**

* * *

**I**

_Sage Donnoway_

Father said that town was healthy. The air was pure, and it smelled slightly of sea water. The ground was always damp and it soaked the hemline of my favorite jeans, caking my shoes in gritty mud. But it looked like something out of another world… everything was so _green_.

I told Father this, as I told him that I was unhappy about moving and like I told him that I didn't want any more hospitals. But Father laughed his jolly laugh, round belly shaking like jelly and his brown whiskers bristling, and he patted my head and kissed my cheek affectedly, causing the usual uncomfortable sensation of having a small broomstick pressed against my cheek. "It's _good_ for you," he insisted and then ambled away when my mother called for him.

But my first impression of La Push was acquired from behind a rain pelted glass window pane, myself being awkwardly seated on a hospital bed. I twisted my head round and round again, stretching my neck painfully just to catch a glimpse of this newly discovered green haven. But the click of heels made me face the doctor, and I blanched slightly. **It** was a she, her long brown hair tied into a fashionable high pony tail more adequate on a runway, and she wore a pair of canary yellow stilettos. Her navy pencil skirt was knee length and her blouse had a ruffled collar like I had seen in the glossy pages of a Vogue magazine. Was I to entrust my health in the hands of a fashion drone?

"Miss Donnoway," she smiled, her voice oozing towards me like a steady flow of poisoned honey.

"I'll be your doctor for the day," she recited, falling just short of charming. "And we'll be chatter chatter smile babble babble chatter smile."

During her stimulating conversation, I picked at my cuticles, pressing the white half moons so that the skin would turn pale yellow underneath. I examined every inch of my finger, taking in a small scar from a childhood incident, tracing creases that appeared when I stretched my fingers.

"If you're uncomfortable with the sight of blood, I suggest you look away," said Whatever-her-name-was, placing her long fingers on my arm, preparing it for the vaccine. I looked at the startling difference between her red lacquered nails and my scrawny pale arm, watching the red tint gleam in the fluorescent hospital lighting. "Miss Donnoway?"

I looked up, meeting her shrewd gaze. The onyx pupils raked over my face, pity and aversion stirring in their depths and making my own eyes flare in indignation. "I don't have a problem with blood," I stated acidly.

Her plucked eyebrows rose ever so slightly, and her eyelids fluttered open further to expose more of the whites of her eyes. If I concentrated, I could make out the small red lines of her veins.

"If you wish," the older woman rose up to meet my challenge, and I internally snorted. Yes, it was a bit pretentious of me to act like that, but wasn't that woman equipped to deal with unhappy brats such as myself? A career woman like she was should at least have some preliminary experience with "over emotional and troubled adolescents" or did she miraculously skip puberty as if she were some pagan deity who sprung from foreheads like zits?

I clucked my tongue, deep in thought and startling Red-Nail-Polish, who jumped and nearly lost her footing. She should be ashamed of wearing death traps to work instead of normal shoes.

She hissed at me as if some sort of enraged cat and shot a pleading glance at my mother, who sat unnoticed in a cold plastic stool in the corner of the room. "Mrs. Donnoway? Your daughter is resisting."

Mother looked up from the magazine she read, her bored eyes taking in my annoyed countenance and Red-Nail-Polish's tense stance. "Sage, please behave." And she looked down at her magazine once more, seeming to melt into the room – becoming part of the spotless white walls.

"Yes, please behave, Miss Donnoway. Act your age, not your shoe size."

"_I'm_ a size nine," I informed my doctor. "But I think _you're_ a size six."

Huffing angrily, she set to work on the procedure of vaccinating me. I focused intently on the needle that traversed layers upon layers of skin, and I bit my lip to distract myself from the prickling pain. Slowly, the clear medicine was emptied into my circulatory system and I wasn't needed for anything else.

After Red-Nail-Polish scratched down a few unintelligible words in "Doctor's Handwriting" (which looks a lot more like a kindergartener's drawing of stick people than the actual English alphabet), she sent my mother and I tripping on our merry way. But of course: where there is honey, there are bees. To clear things up, I must explain my self thoroughly.

If you see me, you can bet you'll see my entourage. Father hovered in the back, swinging silver keys between his stumpy fingers. Nurse Dee took care to place me in my wheelchair and my feet stumbled in the slightest ("Ow!") – causing Mother to swoop down. She used her shaking hands to steady me and placed me in the chair, shooting Nurse Dee dirty looks and commenting on incompetent help. Nurse Dee, like a ruffled mother hen, bustled her way to grip the handles of my wheelchair and wheeled me away.

Two assistants, Shelly and Mae, both young and naïve, flocked after Father and Mother respectively. They babbled about deals and meetings, Mae nearly tripping herself in her hurry to catch up with my mother's swift and purposeful strides, while Shelly chattered rapidly, walking at Father's leisurely pace.

As the Royal Guard and I waited on the sheltered steps of the hospital entrance, I couldn't shake the feeling of having something searing holes into the back of my head, and I self consciously rubbed the back of it, expecting to find my long hair ablaze.

I turned to look backwards, but Nurse Dee's ample figure pretty much blocked my view with the efficiency of a massive boulder.

* * *

_Embry Call._

_It happened_, though Embry Call as he propelled himself through the hazy green forest, willing himself to run faster. There was a strange silence in the air – or in his mind, one he hadn't got used to, even almost a year after leaving Sam's pack.

_Jake! Quil! Are you guys there!?_, he called out, standing straight, poised on the edge of a flowing riverbed. He paused, focusing on the abyss of silence that was his mind. _Son of a bitch, why aren't you guys here!?_

_You sound hormonal _said a familiar voice and Embry whined in disappointment. _Hey Seth._

_Why are you going about insulting people's moms? _interrogated Seth Clearwater and he pawed his way through the undergrowth, emerging with some mud and leaves clinging to his sandy fur. Making his way towards the larger dark chocolate hued wolf, the sandy wolf nudged the other with his muzzle. _I'm not saying until Jake gets here,_ declared Embry and when Seth shoved him, he resisted the urge to bury his head in the mud like an ostrich.

_Come on, Dr. Phil wants a full report,_ thought Seth eagerly. Embry snorted and suppressed the day's events into the recesses of his mind.

_I won't tell you, Seth, so fuck off._

_What's with the language?_ Another voice joined in, more baritone than Seth's. A salt and pepper wolf wove its way into the clearer and Embry exhaled, _Quil._

_And what am I? Your neighbor?_

_Hey Jake,_ Embry saluted the massive russet wolf. _Sarcasm doesn't suit you._

The wolf shrugged its shoulders, snorting out an off tune Disney song. _We're painting the roses red – we're painting the roses red! Because we know they'll cease to –_

_Shut up!_ said Quil before shoving Jake.

_Guys, we don't need to fight over these little things,_ huffed Seth, clearly put out he hadn't been acknowledged. His dark eyes gleamed mischieviously, _Embry here has something to say._

The wolves closed in around the dark chocolate one, splashing and skidding across the shallow river, before standing in front of Embry. _Embry!_ cried out Quil dramatically, _I told you that you didn't have to declare your passion for –_

But Embry, whose annoyance had been increased by his meddling pack's arrival, snarled fiercely at Quil, the sound ripping through the forest and effectively silencing the other wolf. Jake and Quil exchanged glances, unsure of themselves.

Seth however, he had dealt with Leah before, so he softened his stride as he neared Embry. _Dude, don't get so worked up. What's wrong?_

Sighing heavily, Embry tried to repress the thought of her. _**She**__ was in a wheelchair_, he moaned. His heart wrenched as he remembered the sprite-like girl who had to be delicately placed in a wheelchair, his face screwed up in pain and he whimpered. _What happened? Why wasn't I around earlier, so I could prevent whatever happened?_

_Hold up_, said Jake, trying to calm him down. _Where did you see her?_

_The hospital_, whined Embry.

Collectively the pack winced. They thought of their own imprints, seeing them for the first time - in pain, in a _hospital_ of all places.

Embry tried to rid the images of Claire in a cast or Nessie limping, and plopped down in the muddy bank, feeling very defeated. He shut his eyes, trying to block out his friend's frantic thoughts, feeling the soft dirt splatter his fur and the river water lapping at his paws.

Jake nudged his side with his muzzle, and Embry didn't get up, instead he rolled over and looked up into the trees. A small, light green leaf caught his eye, and he stared at it, trying to rid his mind of any thought but that leaf. Such a pretty green leaf.

_I think he's lost it_, muttered Quil.

_Her eyes are that color_, mused Embry quietly, remembering a pair soft green eyes trying to peek behind the nurse. Beautiful eyes.

_Did you talk to her?_ asked Seth.

_No_, said Embry - too deep in thought to register what he was saying.

_How did it happen?_ wondered Jake.

_It just did_, muttered Embry, his ears plastering to his head at the thought of an interrogation.

Closing his eyes, he thought back to the day at the hospital.

* * *

The door clicked shut and Embry sighed. It was the third time in two months his hyperactive younger sister had sprained something and landed herself a day in the hospital. He could still hear her babble something inside the room, talking his dad, who had reluctantly agreed that maybe Embry's sister should live a while with their mom, as to prevent the series of accidents that had been happening in his dad's permanent residence in Seattle.

Embry clamped his mouth shut when asked to opinion, not daring to complain about the lack of space at his home in La Push, and the very idea that Annadela would avoid skateboarding accidents by being moved to La Push, the slipperiest and muddiest of places on the planet.

However, as Embry tried to cram his giant body into the elevator, ducking his head as to not smash the overhead lights, he considered that space wouldn't be a problem. He wasn't around his place too much as his mother was somewhat of a pest.

Embry pressed the button with difficulty, the elevator jolted awake and rumbled down the shaft, creaking slightly in evidence of its old age and maybe as testimony to Embry's body mass. It dinged and the doors slid open, revealing the general calm and gleaming hygiene of the hospital's restored lobby. The speakers hummed a soothing song and a tape recorder voice announced that Someone-or-Other would need assistance on floor six.

Embry felt that this was what a hospital should be and hated every inch of it.

He ignored the buzzing in his pocket, knowing he would crush his phone if he tried to answer, and weaved through the sick and elderly that seemed to pervade the room. "Ow!"

Not even registering the sudden change in his world, his body whipped around of its own accord. Embry frantically searched for the source of the noise, and his eyes were drawn to a girl being supported by her mother. She was thin and pale and Embry made a move to help her out, or even carry her wherever she wanted to go. Just if she would stop being in pain.

Her mother set her down delicately in a wheelchair and Embry's heartstrings were viciously ripped apart when he realized that she wasn't able to walk on her own, the unknown why had him nearly leaping towards her. His eyes desperately tried to understand but a nurse blocked his line of sight. A nurse? What the hell was going on?

He stood there, unmoving and gawping, watching as she was wheeled away. But there was movement, and it came from her, and he saw her turn around as if sensing his gaze on her. A pair of onyx pupils looked at him (or his general direction), rimmed by pale green irises. She fluttered her eyes closed, revealing to him feathery eyelashes, and she turned around, seeming to settle in her chair.

He wasn't able to move for quite a bit, until his mother's small hand tugged at his elbow and he looked down, meeting her concerned brown eyes. "Embry? I thought you left a while ago," her voice betrayed her relief. Embry knew she had thought he was going to do drugs, as he was in such a hurry to leave, and he nearly smiled ruefully. _'No, Mom, I just saw my soulmate. Maybe you could start planning the wedding?'_

"It's okay Mom, I just been waiting."

"For what?"

"I'm not sure. Anyways, I think my ride's here." At this statement, her eyes hardened and she parted her lips, intent on preventing him from leaving. But she couldn't do that; he needed to meet with the pack. So before she could issue a word, he turned on his heels and strode out of the automated hospital doors, heading towards his nonexistent 'ride'. He could run faster than any car.

* * *

**A/N: I finally posted this, yay! All my thanks to my annoying friends and Gregory MacGuire (author of Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West) since both inspired me to write this. (No, I don't know Gregory MacGuire, but his book is awesome!) So review, read another story, eat a cookie, and G'day!**

**--Vix**


	2. Blue Encased Behinds

**DISCLAIMER: I am not Stephenie Meyer. End of story. No kidnapping attempts will change this.**

**A/N: I have absolutely no excuse. I know. Hunt me down, ignore me, I know I'm awful. I know nobody read this, but the does not excuse from being loyal to my story. So yes, those who are angry are allowed to follow me with a pitchfork.**

**

* * *

**

**II**

******_Sage Donnoway_**

Have you ever been the "New Kid" before? The new oddity that the entire student body feels entitled to stare at and whisper about? That new person nobody knows anything about, in a tight knit community where everyone knows everyone?

I have, and that day was my third time being That Person.

Mother dressed me that morning. It was pathetic that at seventeen I let my mother choose my outfits, but I never saw any reason not to let her to. She chose a simple dark blue polo (placing a long sleeved white undershirt beneath it) and skinny jeans designed by her, paired with simple white Keds, a "fashion classic".

However, her artsy side showed as wrapped a multicolor scarf to act as a headband and braided my shoulder blade length black hair. To give me some credit, I refused the Indian bangles and hoops and the costly overcoat my mother threw at me, preferring a simple black one, which would let me blend into the mass of students. Or at least I hoped.

Nurse Dee, as strong as a bull, carried me down to the kitchen table and I clung to her in fear, digging my nails into her back, thinking that she might drop me and send me tumbling down the stairs. She placed me in a glossy new kitchen stool, hovering behind me in case I might fall off.

A young woman hired to help around the house, named Karen or Lauren or something of the sort, brought a breakfast of coffee, oatmeal, two slices of toast, bacon and a side of fruit.

The tray she was about to set down, of course _couldn't_ be set down as Mae and my mother had spread fabric samples, portfolios, and colored papers on the kitchen table, buzzing over them like bees buzzed over queens. Mae already had a cell phone out at the ungodly hour of 7:30 AM, and was chattering so fast that I swore her tongue was going to fly off and smack one of the newly painted walls.

Nurse Dee frowned in disapproval of the chaos and glared pointedly at my mother. "Mrs. Donnoway, with all due respect," she said, her crisp voice making it clear that there was no actual respect. "I suggest you clear these _scraps_ so Little Sage can eat her breakfast."

My mother, who dearly loved to pick a fight with Nurse Dee, couldn't help but admit that while Nurse Dee was annoying, she did have a point. Grumbling reluctantly, she cleared a portion of the kitchen table so I could peacefully nibble at my food, never eating enough to please Nurse Dee. The stout woman made me open my mouth as she shoved each spoonful of oatmeal and I choked it down obediently until Father entered the kitchen, his face happy, as it always was in his idealistic world of sugar, chocolate dipped ponies and an end to terrorism.

Nurse Dee instantly stopped what she was doing, as she knew Father disapproved of my being force fed. Nurse Dee highly respected Father, calling him a "gentleman" – something that a proud feminist like Nurse Dee was not wont to say, especially without a sarcastic tone.

My mother smiled happily at the sight of Father, and greeted him with a kiss full on the lips. "Good morning, Forrest."

"Morning, Iris," his voice was cheerful yet gruff from sleep. "I'll be heading out with Sage now; it is now 7:45 AM according to that heathenish clock." His murky brown eyes shot a disdainful look at the recently acquired digital clock. Of curse my father would say that about a perfectly decent electronic appliance.

My mother frowned just slightly, the corners of her usually smiling mouth pulling down almost imperceptibly, "But you haven't had breakfast, and it's almost a three hour long drive to Seattle." Her voice turned a bit pleading, as it always did when she tried to charm my father, "Darling, you should really eat here."

"I'll eat at the office, love," he tried to console, his bushy eyebrows pulling together in concern. "But I have to go or Sage will be late."

"Fine then – eat the overly seasoned food that uncaring attendants provide for you! What is it to me if you die of food poisoning!? Just don't let Sage be late! And you, honey," she said as she turned to me, her green eyes flashing. I immediately recognized her listen to me or _die_ voice; it's always accompanied by the Apocalypse in mind. "You better not mouth off to your teachers or your outdoor privileges will be withdrawn, understood?"

I turned pale at the thought of not being able to exercise what little control I had over my legs, and nodded emphatically at my mother, trying to convey that I understood the importance of her ruling.

"Good," she said, seeming to have taken me seriously, and her grin alighted her face once more.

_Father did mention a nice mental facility in Peru_; I reasoned as my mother kissed my cheek and led me out the kitchen with ease and practice. _I know she'll enjoy the fruity little cocktails they're supposed to serve._

She let Nurse Dee place me in the carseat almost like I was a toddler and did the job of buckling me in. It was kindergarten all over again, except that this time I didn't smash a window after throwing a Barbie in my howling rage. I was a special little girl.

Father sat in the passenger seat and Shelly drove out of the driveway expertly, and I do mean this in the nicest way possible, before whirling us down the damp road like an escaped convict, twisting through the different curves of the unkempt road before coming to a more secure one nearly five minutes later.

Taking in the fact that Shelly's insane driving reduces the distant it would normally take to get there normally by more than a half, I came to the conclusion that I lived fifteen to twenty minutes away from civilization, or at least the outskirts of it.

But it turned out that La Push was so small, it didn't need outskirts. Everything was concentrated together, gathered around what I deduced to be some sort of City Hall. It was a rather discouraging building, too solemn for my taste. The only bright point seemed to be the tribal influenced art around it and decorating the outside. Only two blocks away, I saw what seemed to be a cluster of decent sized buildings, the sign at the entrance of the parking lot read "La Push Reservation Educational Facilities"

There were four buildings in total, with different signs reading "La Push Reservation Elementary School", "Administration", "La Push Reservation Middle School" and "La Push Reservation High School."

Father got out at "Administration" and entered by himself, leaving Shelly, Nurse Dee and myself in the black car outside. Students mingled around, and I could see them glancing at the black car with tinted windows, specifically designed for safety. They passed whispering and pointing shamelessly, probably imagining that whoever was inside the ostentatious sleek car was most likely some sort of heiress of a small company. At least I'd escaped from _that_ miserable fate.

He came out again, using his raincoat to shield the papers he clutched in his hands from the drizzling rain. Father ducked his head as he got inside, and instructed Shelly to pull up under the roofed section of the entrance to La Push Reservation High School. She did so, her abrupt movements startling the flock of students who were entering the building with obvious sleep in their eyes. They scrambled out of the way, glaring at Shelly and muttering under their breath.

Father got out of the car and Nurse Dee did as well, smoothing her matching dark blue shirt and pants and glowering at some of the students – her way of saying, "I AM A NURSE. RUN FOR THE TREES!" Considering the preposterous of chlorophyll, minimal amount of brown and lack of any other possible color absolutely, excepting the characteristic tinge of grey in the air from the fog, I was prepared to bet that running for cover wouldn't be much of a problem.

While Father set up the wheelchair, Nurse Dee opened the car door and settled me in the seat. Instantaneously curious pupils bore into my back, analyzing every aspect of me.

I clutched the armrests of my chair so that the skin over my knuckles strained and I nearly shut my eyes hoping that if I opened them, the entire horrible day would be done and over with.

I handed Nurse Dee my backpack, as it was uncomfortable to carry it in my lap. She wheeled the chair through the doors, emblazoned with the school emblem of what seemed to be a paw print. The hallways weren't as crowded there as they were in some of my other schools, and I took time to notice which was the difference that set me apart from the other students.

My hair was dark, like most of the population, and I may have been a tad bit skinnier than average. Of course, compared to the buxom dark haired beauty that was impressively imitating the gorilla's mating habits with a male in plain sight, I was deathly malnourished.

Maybe it was the eyes? Did my eyes make me different? But the eyes couldn't be, as they weren't that noticeable, whatever shade they were.

Call me dense, but it was only then that I realized, as we saw more and more of the school on our way to Homeroom, that exactly 90% of the student population had a beautiful shade russet skin. Of course I wasn't the only different one, I saw a girl with skin the same color as dark chocolate and a few boys who were lighter than the russet most of the Quileutes sported.

But of course no one could compare with the color of my skin, a sickly paleness that I had acquired when I was ill. I self consciously traced my nearly translucent forearm, taking my gaze away from the students and instead concentrating on the green veins that transported blood within me, and I ran my fingers along them, straining my eyesight to see every cell.

Nurse Dee's plump hand closed around my wrist, stopping me from skimming my fingernails across my arm. Her eyes showed only the slightest bit of concern as she handed me my backpack, wheeling me into a smallish classroom with only twenty seats.

The students in those seats swiveled around, and once more I felt like I was under a microscope.

"Good day," a female teacher said pleasantly, smiling at Nurse Dee and me. I decided her eyes crinkled nicely when she smiled. "Class, this is a new student, Sage Donnoway. Take a seat Sage."

Unfortunately, my teacher didn't seem to realize how difficult that would be, so Nurse Dee struggled with placing me awkwardly in one of the front desks, her behind bumping into other desks. Finally she decided I was comfortable and handed me back my bag before waddling through the narrow space between the rows, sitting down in a seat in the corner, with my wheelchair beside her.

"So class, this is your first day of eleventh grade, your junior year. I am your Homeroom and Trigonometry teacher, my name is Dolores Rowan. During this hour we will be discussing the very…." I couldn't help but space out and quietly opened my notebook to the first page, and I skimmed my fingers over it, liking the way the paper felt crisp and new.

For the time being, I could only feel three things: the pencil, my hand and those eyes. My pencil started to draw circles, looping different ways. The loops became pupils and I shaded them in, almost feeling the lead rub unto the white paper. They grew more complex, and I held my breath as I began to lose myself in the idea of capturing one of those blatantly staring eyes and drawing them, tracing each hidden crease, vein, and cell.

"Miss Donnoway?" interrupted Miss/Mrs. Rowan, her own concerned gaze fixed on me, almost hunched over my notebook.

"Sage?" said Nurse Dee, her voice distant from her place at the back. I turned in my seat awkwardly, just in time to glimpse her getting up, bending her knees from stiffness. In my own selfishness I had forgotten that as strong and energetic Nurse Dee was, she was getting near her sixties and my constant care must have been taking a toll on her.

"No – I'm fine, really, Nurse Dee. Sit down," I said softly, in fact I was sure that only Nurse Dee would hear, her hearing was excellent – I never got away with anything.

"Yes well, class!" said Miss/Mrs. Rowan, trying to regain the class's attention. "Stop gaping like fish, children, it's unattractive," she chided, snorting at her own joke - which ruined the entire effect.

Instantly the eyes stopped boring into me, except one pair. At least I didn't feel like that poor insect the kids put under a magnifying glass in the sun.

* * *

_Embry Call._

Embry fidgeted in his seat, causing the too small desk to creak in protest.

It had been a while since he had come to school – even though it was his junior year, he preferred patrols and Jake's garage to the academic challenges that school presented him. Of course, Mother Leech's cooking also had a bit to do with it.

His excuse for being there, stuffed in to a miniature desk, was that he had to set a good example for Annadela's high school years, even though she was now well into her sophomore year. But then again, his mother had beamed at him after he asked for a few notebooks. He had realized that going back for indefinite amount of time required keeping up the appearance that he was learning.

But it was worth it if he was going to see _her_, again.

Sam was the first to inform Embry that she had enrolled at LPRHS, surprisingly. The massive pack leader had stopped Embry in the grain section of the supermarket, clearing his throat uncomfortably as if trying to make the awkward silence disappear.

"_So, I heard you imprinted."_

_Embry raised an eyebrow and affirmed the indirect question with the stiff nod._

"_Oh, right then," Sam rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do. "Is she new at La Push?"_

_Embry unclenched his jaw, finally making a move to speak to Sam. "Why do you care, Sam?"_

_Maybe it was the fact that Embry was supposed to be a subordinate to Sam alpha status, but as the former had joined Jake's pack as soon as he could switch sides, whatever imposing rebuke Sam said had no pull on the younger man. Sam felt some sort of indignation at being treated like this when he had been trying to help. _

"_Kim was talking about some new girl yesterday, with Emily. I think she might be your girl," rushed out Sam, trying to minimize the time spent on having that awkward conversation. "You might try going to school once in a while, Call."_

_Embry gripped a forgotten cereal box tighter, why hadn't he thought of that? "Thanks for the tip, Uley."_

"No – I'm fine, really, Nurse Dee. Sit down."

The soft voice made Sam Uley's face disperse from his mind and Embry felt as if he had taken a gasp of breath after being submerged underwater. His eyes flew towards her, taking in her appearance.

_Perfect_, the wolf in him growled, absolutely satisfied.

Slight but tall like a nymph or a fairy, he thought, his more rational side disgusted by his romantic description. Her hair was sleek and black, not a wave or curl in sight. Her back was towards him, but he was confident that his imprint was beautiful from every angle.

She didn't speak again during the lesson, always staring at the teacher. He felt a surge of curiosity. Was she a good student? Did she enjoy studying? What college did she want to attend? What about him? Would she go to study far away? He could deal with that, he reasoned before panicking once more. What if she wanted to travel extensively? Live in another place? Like China or London or Egypt or Tokyo!? What would he do about the pack!?

He groaned and clutched the desk tightly, splintering the wood.

The class turned to look at him, some weirded out, some curious. But she neither turn nor glance, destroying the image of a dedicated student. She was somewhere off in dreamland.

Embry sighed and would have slumped in his seat if the desk hadn't immediately shrieked. What a day this was becoming.

---

The bell rang and he jumped from his imprint induced haze, running out of the room to catch up with her. He stopped abruptly, his massive body causing a minor collision in the hallway and went back, instructing himself to wait for her from now on.

Embry could hear her soft murmurs and his heart clenched, counting the seconds for her to come out of the door. Imagine his surprise when a dark blue encased behind was the first thing to wedge out of the doorframe. The woman struggled to wheel his imprint out and he said – as articulately as possible in such a situation – "D-do you need some, ermm, he-elp?"

"No, no! I can do this!" cried the voice of the woman, impatiently waving him away.

"But, ma'm, you look like-"

"I do not look like anything boy, it is you who be looking at me! Go now, I'm not incompetent! Go away!" repeated the women, tugging and pulling and twisting and wedging until she was partially out, but the she would not move more. It just wouldn't happen.

"Nurse Dee," called a voice from inside, "maybe you should let him help. You are sort of- well- in a bit of a sticky situation."

Embry's heart thumped as his imprint spoke, and he broke into an ear splitting grin. What his imprint wanted, she would get. Without waiting for Nurse Dee to accept his offer he looped his arms around her and pulled her out in one swift tug, the wheel chair rolling out after.

What he didn't foresee was the backpack that assaulted him afterwards, "You awful young man! What do you think you are doing, eh!? Harming and man-handling gentlewomen?! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

Embry winced, more out of annoyance than physical pain, as the middle aged woman slammed a backpack into him repeatedly. "Hey! I'm sorry, ok!? Get off! I only wanted to help!"

"Nurse Dee! Dee! Stop it! He was only trying to help and you were being stubborn! You're hurting him! You can't take care of me with assault charges being pressed against you!"

Embry noted that the last phrase was the one that stopped the attacks, and he steadied himself on his feet before saying solemnly, "I truly am sorry Nurse Dee," in the same tone he had used on his mother when she wouldn't give him dessert after dyeing Annadela's hair with Kool-Aid. "I won't press charges."

The woman's mouth receded into a tight line before unblocking the view as she went back to her charge, his imprint.

Embry felt childlike wonder and adoration as he looked at his imprint, committing to memory her large green eyes, her pointed chin, her cheek bones, her nice nose, everything he could lay his eyes on. So when she cleared her throat awkwardly, he said the first thing that came to mind.

"Nice flowers."

She soured slightly, crossing her arms protectively over her torso. "Are you making fun of my name?"

"What!? No, no, no, no! It's your scarf… thingy."

"My…what?" she looked up at him confused, craning her neck to see him from her chair.

He motioned to his head helplessly.

"Oh, my headband," she looked at him, her words sort of blank as if she were dozing off. He panicked again – did she think he was boring?

"But, um, about your name. It must be really cool and pretty if it's got to do with plants, I've personally never liked names like Amanda and Stacey but if I have to like them I will, unless you don't. I'm willing to like a lot of things like hedgehogs and shark meat. I heard shark meat is delicious in Japan…"

And Embry started rattling a bunch of things as he tried to keep up with Nurse Dee's fast pace. He felt happy and absolutely whipped as he chattered about Newton's Laws of Gravity.

"Hey."

He halted, turning to look expectantly at his imprint.

"Could you slow down?" she pleaded a bit, the green irises engulfing his mind as he nodded to her request. "I haven't even introduced myself. I'm Sage Donnoway. Not to be rude, but who the hell are you?"

Embry shifted uncomfortably where he was standing; having realized that he looked desperate and stalkerish. "Oh, um. My name's Embry Call."

"Good. Listen, I've got class."

Embry swore internally, he had completely blown it. How could he have been so absolutely stupid? What was wrong with him? Did he not-

"…lunch?" He listened up to only catch the last word of her question.

"What? Sorry, could you repeat that?"

"I asked if I could finish talking to you at lunch."

He grinned again, amazed by this progress. "Yes, absolutely, completely."

"Well, okay then, lunch it is."

Embry Call had to, for the first time in his life, resist the urge to sing as he walked away from his Sage. To any bystander he looked absolutely drugged, but after all, who wouldn't look like that if they were going to have a conversation with their future bride over Styrofoam trays loaded with inedible goodies?

At least that was the plan until he received an urgent call from Leah about the borders. Embry swore (out loud this time). Of course things couldn't go just right.

* * *

**I'd like to thank those close and dear enough who threatened me to post. Without your gory descriptions of my death, I would not have been motivated to write. Thank you and good night.**

**-- Vix**


End file.
